


put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans

by niallcentric



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niallcentric/pseuds/niallcentric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those black pants were a sin, clinging to his skin in all the right places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this right after the VMAs because Harry slapped Niall's bum like twice (his favorite pastime) and Niall looked sinful in those pants. Well, they all looked sinful in their tight pants tbh.

“Harry, do these look okay?”

It was pandemonium as everyone ran back and forth, making sure the boys were completely ready before heading to the red carpet. Harry had been ready to go for about an hour, but that may or may not have been as a result of his nerves for the night’s events. _What if we don’t win? Oh God, what if we do?_ Their stylist had to check up on him every ten minutes to make sure he hadn’t mussed his suit.

Harry glanced carelessly in the direction the Irish voice had come from. He’d been worrying his nails, chewing on them out of habit as his foot bounced to the beat of its own drum, but at the sight of the blonde his fingers dropped from his mouth.

Niall stood in the doorway, raising his arms in question. He was clad in a red-orange sweater with the collar of the white shirt beneath peeking out at the neck. As Harry’s eyes traveled downward, he almost groaned.

Harry twirled a finger. “Turn around,” he instructed, eyes drinking in the sight before him as Niall turned – slower than he probably needed to, the little shit – and Harry licked his lips. Those black pants were a sin, clinging to his skin in all the right places. The dark color made his legs look thinner, longer, and Harry knew they’d look good wrapped around his waist and pressing down on him like that.

“So?”

Harry’s eyes finally lifted and he found himself biting his fingernails again, but for an entirely different reason. “I could eat you.”

Niall smirked. “Good.”

—

All they could see were flashes with a vague background noise of, “Look this way! Over here, boys!”

Harry gave his best attempt at a cheerful, glad-to-be-here smile but he felt it wavering as Niall pressed himself further into his side. There was a nudge against his pocketed hand and he glanced down briefly, catching Niall’s backside bumping against him. He pursed his lips before returning his focus to the cameras, trying to nudge Niall back in warning to cut it out.

There was another bump against his hand before the boys were told to move down the line for a fresh set of photographers. Niall slid forward smoothly, getting into place next to Zayn and Harry tried not to stare as he gave his bum a little wiggle before facing forward again.

The flashes continued and Harry removed his hands from his pockets, shifting his stance. He leaned to the side, close enough to feel Niall’s body heat radiating off of him in waves, and with a brief glance to make sure no one was paying attention, he traced his fingertips down Niall’s back. He pressed into the ridges of Niall’s spine, soft material caressing his skin as he trailed downward until he reached the top of his trousers.

Niall cleared his throat. Harry smirked.

If there was any time Harry appreciated the size of his hands, it was when they had the swell of Niall’s ass gripped between them, forming around it perfectly. Harry gave a good squeeze and Niall jumped, coughing and rubbing his nose and facing Zayn like it was his fault.

They were told to move down the line again.

Niall turned his head away from the crowd, whispering a harsh, “Stop it,” over his shoulder.

“Make me,” was Harry’s response.

—

No way. No fucking way did they just win.

Harry was elated, skipping down the aisle with the biggest smile on his face like he’d just won the lottery. He had a good view all around – fans smiling and throwing their congratulations on either side and then Niall’s bum bouncing in front of him.

The blonde turned around, blue eyes meeting green and the noise around them seemed far away, like he was hearing it through a wall. Niall’s face lit up, all teeth as he grinned back. Harry’s smile softened, melting into a smaller one that somehow held much more meaning. Niall mirrored it, a mutual understanding flowing between the two in their smiles. They said, “We did it, man!” and, “I can’t believe it!” and, “I love you.”

Niall reached forward, pale hand outstretched. Harry shook it and Niall’s dopey grin was back. He turned back around and there were butterflies in Harry’s stomach. Whether it was from the thrill of winning or something else, he wasn’t sure.

He slapped Niall’s ass for good measure.

—

He may have done it again on stage while performing but that one he couldn’t be held accountable for.

The look on Niall’s face was worth it, though.

—

“I can’t believe it, Harry.”

They were in another dressing room later that night. Their orders were to get changed into some comfortable clothes so they could catch a flight back home.

Harry found himself resting against the arm of the couch, chest bare and belt undone as he watched Niall remove his dress shirt. The muscles in his back flexed from the action, shoulder blades prominent and sharp against the taut skin. “Three awards,” he kept repeating, a smile in his voice. His spine arched, stretching, as he removed his belt and started unfastening the buttons on his trousers.

Harry pushed himself up, walking towards the mumbling Irishman. He rested his hands on pale shoulders and Niall halted, sighing when Harry leant down to gently kiss his neck. He turned the smaller boy in his arms, smiling crookedly down at him. He pressed their foreheads together and they closed their eyes, breathing in each other’s air and reveling in the joy the evening had brought them. They’d come so far and so soon. Sometimes the world liked to speed up around them, putting everything on fast-forward. But moments like this, it was all on pause and time stood still.

“I still can’t believe it, Harry,” Niall’s voice shook, adrenaline still pumping through his veins like a drug. “We did it.”

“Yeah baby, we did,” He wound his arms around the tiny figure, pulling the boy into him. His skin burned, everywhere Niall touched him he felt a tingle, like little needles prickling in his skin or sparks from a fire. He brought a hand up to that soft hair, pressing his nose against it and breathing in the warm scent. Like cinnamon. Tangling his fingers there, he tugged Niall’s head back and connected their lips.

Niall hummed, leaning up on his toes for better access. Harry sucked on his bottom lip, pulling on the skin, before delving in further. He wanted to taste him, feel him, swallow him whole. He couldn’t get enough.

He scratched at Niall’s scalp before trailing his hands down that lithe body, grinning when Niall shivered from the touch. He continued lower, below his pants line, paused and then squeezed.

Niall moaned, more out of surprise, at the contact. Harry gripped his ass tightly, molding their hips together until there was no space left between them. Every now and then he’d loosen his grip before tightening it again and Niall would sigh into his mouth.

Niall eventually pulled away, far enough to breathe but leaving their lips touching. “You really liked my ass today,” he noted, smirking and tracing his tongue along Harry’s lips.

“It looked fantastic in those trousers,” Harry groaned, sucking the tongue back into his mouth.

Niall chuckled breathily. “Should I wear them more often?”

“No,” said Harry. “God no, it’s obscene. I just want to _devour_ you. You’re taking them back.”

Niall tossed his head back, laughing loudly.

Harry slapped his ass again.


End file.
